


A Cold Night on the Cliffs

by TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy



Series: Ineffable Fluff [1]
Category: Broadchurch, Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Self-Pity, hardy being hardy, let hardy be happy 2k19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 06:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21070124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy/pseuds/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy
Summary: Alec Hardy needs a shoulder to lean on.





	A Cold Night on the Cliffs

**Author's Note:**

> A kind individual suggested this ship to me. Then my hand slipped and this ficlet appeared on my phone.

Alec buried his face in both hands, putting pressure on his eyes to lessen the headache that had taken residence inside his skull some time during the afternoon. It didn’t end up doing much, but he didn’t particularly wanted to see the world anyway at this moment.

It was all a disaster. An absolute disaster. He had never wanted to be there. To be here, in Broadchurch. He hated the place, and he wasn’t one of those people who could hide these feelings. No, they were always on the surface, bleeding out of him with every look, every word, every gesture. He didn’t care much about that, but it usually offended everyone around him, which made it so much harder to work with them. Not that he wanted to, which made it worse. He couldn’t even pretend. It had been his first day and everything was already ruined.

It was a never ending cycle of bad feelings, thrown all around, mirrored by everyone and he was sick of it. So sick.

A cool breeze ruffled his unruly hair, never really in any kind of form, but absolutely destroyed after that horrible day at the station, during which his hands had run through it again and again and again. The wind was surprisingly mild, considering he was sitting on a bench high on the cliffs. He’d expected a more stiff breeze. Something cold to match his mood. It was the middle of the night and he was sitting in the darkness, only the cautious rays of a half-moon illuminating the path at least so much that he hadn’t fallen over the edge himself. He didn’t particularly want to stare out at the sea, he’d just wanted to be alone. Alone and silent.

His thoughts wandered again because he could never stop them. They settled on Miller. She resented him, that much he could tell. Hell, she’d told him in no uncertain terms herself. He’d taken the job she had wanted. Deserved? He couldn’t tell just yet. She seemed decent, but there was work to do to turn this relationship into something worthwhile and Alec was… he was just so tired. Of it all.

Something rustled next to him and suddenly a person sat down without any prior warning. There had been no footsteps on the gravel, no other indication. There had been no one and then there was someone. Alec didn’t look up. He wasn’t determined to ignore the newcomer, but he wouldn’t welcome them either.

“Lovely night,” the person said, low and even. It sounded like a man’s voice.

Alec didn’t respond. The other person fell into silence as well. He felt them shift. There was enough distance between them, but the creaking boards of the bench transferred every movement. He heard a slurping noise and just like that the smell of chocolate drifted past his nose. For a moment he was so surprised that he lost himself in the sweet aroma, but in the next his headache returned. He groaned.

“Bad day?” the other asked.

Alec sighed. This wasn’t going to go away on its own, was it?

“That obvious?” he countered.

“I felt like there is someone here who needs help.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re a psychic or any of those aura hippies.”

“I don’t have to be. The signs are pretty clear on their own. It’s 3 o’clock in the morning, you’re sitting alone on a bench so far away from town that you can’t even see the lights anymore, much less meet anyone.”

Alec huffed a breath. “And yet here you are.”

“And yet here I am,” the other confirmed.

He had to look up at some point, didn’t he? Alec rubbed his face and ruffled his beyond-hope hair once more before turning to his right, only to be welcomed with a pair of bright eyes and a smile so soft and genuine that he momentarily felt like he was looking at one of these idealised film posters, where everyone always seemed happier than life could ever be. Alec continued to examine the man. The stranger had placed himself next to him willingly, and if he was offended by the stare, he could leave again just as easily.

The mystery man was wearing a cream coloured suit with a long jacket that seemed old-fashioned, with a waistcoat to round it off. Even a bowtie! Alec shook his head slightly. The man said nothing, just continued to smile. He had fluffy, white-blonde hair and those lines around his eyes that betrayed the fact that he laughed a lot. Alec had them too, only they seemed like a lie now. He noticed the cup in the stranger’s hand, still steaming. He took a sip. Only then did he realise that the man seemed to glow from the inside out. He didn’t project any light, but his body seemed to be brighter than anything else, even the details of his clothing visible in the dark.

Alec shook his head, looked away again.

“I might be going mad,” he mumbled.

“Nothing so dramatic,” the man replied.

“You aren’t real.”

“That’s a strange thing to say.”

“Look, I’ve had a very, very long day,” Alec said, looking back into the man’s strange eyes. “And I don’t particularly care if you like me or not, so if you’re not real, kindly vanish into thin air and if you’re real, please just leave.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Now Alec barked a laugh. It didn’t sound amused. It sounded like he had snapped. He put one hand on the other man’s upper arm, which was solid and warm.

“Alright. You’re not imaginary, you’re just weird.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Me too,” Alec replied with a sigh.

He realised he still had his hand on the stranger’s arm. Somehow he didn’t want to let go. The warmth and the weight was reassuring, even though he had come out here in the pursuit of wasting away on his own. Still, there was something called boundaries. But as he retracted his hand, it was caught in the man’s left, brought back to his body, set down on his thigh. Alec was too surprised to react.

“Hello,” the other said and smiled so brightly that the night seemed to light up. “That’s better. Now I have your attention.”

“Uh,” said Alec, eloquently.

“My name is Aziraphale.”

It was a testament to Alec’s tiredness that he didn’t bolt.

“Alec Hardy,” he replied.

“Alec. How lovely.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Alec said and then added: “You asked.”

“I did. That’s alright. What else do you want to talk about?”

“Nothing?” Alec supplied.

He felt his hand being squeezed, felt the slight tremor that ran through his arm. He realised that this man called Aziraphale must feel it too, but he didn’t let go, so neither did Alec.

“Alright.”

Alec swallowed. He needed to get away. This was surreal. He had no capacity left to deal with this situation. But there was something in him that felt curiously content to be there. To be next to this man who was impossibly glowing, impossibly weird, impossibly kind.

“How did you get here? I didn’t hear you approach.”

“You must’ve been in thought,” Aziraphale said and left it at that. 

Alec had to believe him. There was no other option. No, that was stupid. There was always another option. It was late, he was tired, he had foolishly walked out here on a whim and had now been accosted by a stranger. It was time to leave. He pulled his hand back.

“Well, that was… something. Good night,” he said… and stood up much too quickly.

His head didn’t like it at all. It protested by kicking him in his sense of balance and sending a lightning of pain through his brain. Alec hissed and held his head, swayed where he stood. He would’ve possibly fallen over if not for a pair of hands on his shoulders. As he opened his eyes he saw the cup on the floor, liquid spilled.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s all good,” Aziraphale answered. “Why don’t you sit down again for a moment? You don’t seem entirely healthy.”

“That’s the understatement of the decade,” Alec huffed, but sat down anyway.

The stranger kept his arm around him even as they sat down, and as much as Alec wanted to protest, it was a welcome anchor that kept him grounded. He had to laugh. Him. Actively wanting to stay close to another human. Ridiculous.

“Who are you?”

“I’ve gotten a hint that you might need a steady shoulder to rely on after today. I don’t exactly do everything that’s asked of me anymore, but they still ask and sometimes I feel like I’m really needed.”

“You’re not making the slightest bit of sense.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it, though?”

Aziraphale laughed, a chuckle that was warm and amused and not remotely at Alec’s expense. He relaxed a fraction.

“You remind me of someone I know,” Aziraphale said.

“Why? Do I look like him?”

“A bit.”

“Poor bastard.”

Aziraphale laughed again and his eyes crinkled. “It’s not that. It’s rather the way you both refuse to acknowledge the emotions running through your body and would rather throw yourself off a cliff than dealing with them.”

“Your friend sounds like a fun guy.”

“You have no idea.”

Despite everything in him, Alec actually leaned back and partially into Aziraphale’s embrace.

“Why are you glowing?” he asked.

“Oh, I usually don’t tell people because I’d get in trouble, but… well, I suppose I could tell you, seeing that no one in town respects you enough to believe you.”

“Ah, yes. Very kind of you to point that out. How do you know?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “That’s easy. I’m an angel.”

“Sure. Tell that to Miller.”

“You say that like you’re making fun of her, but you know that she’d be the only one who’d take you seriously and that’s why you push her away.”

“I didn’t come here to get called out,” Alec said, but his voice was strained. “Not even by an angel.”

“No, you came here to wallow in self-pity… and I’m not letting you.”

There was a rush of wind, but it was different from the ocean breeze. It was fresh and clear and warm and smelled of ozone. Two shining wings stretched out behind Aziraphale, gently swaying. Alec swallowed. He’d seen many things that weren’t real, but this took the crown.

“May I jump off the cliff now?” he asked.

“Now that would be a terrible waste of a perfectly decent human being.”

“Nothing decent about me.”

“I should really introduce you to my friend,” Aziraphale mumbled. “Or maybe not. Probably not healthy.”

Alec reached out and carded his fingers through soft feathers. “Well, shit,” he said. “Does that mean I have to believe in god now?”

“Oh, no. I mean, I can tell you she’s real, but you don’t have to believe in her.”

“And you’ve been sent here as my guardian angel?”

“I’m merely making sure one of her favourites has a shoulder to cry on.”

“Whenever I need you?”

“Yes.”

Alec let out a strangled laugh.The universe had a strange sense of humour. 

“Alright. I’ll keep you to it.”

He reached for Aziraphale’s hand and looked him straight into his bright, glowing eyes. There was nothing there but open kindness, gentle warmth and a whole lot of love. It was hard to deny that Aziraphale was an angel with all the goodness that bled out of him if you looked closely.

“Will you help with the case?”

“No. That’s an entirely human affair.”

“I thought so. Just picking up the pieces, as it were?”

“Holding you together so that you may not fall apart,” Aziraphale answered. “Ideally.”

Alec swallowed. “Then start now,” he said.

He fell asleep, enveloped in Aziraphale’s arms, leaning against his chest, head on his shoulder, a cocoon of feathers keeping them warm.


End file.
